


Twitteritis

by IAmANonnieMouse



Series: Voice!Verse [3]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ficlet, Fluff, M/M, Music, Piano, The Voice AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-20 02:09:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11326449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IAmANonnieMouse/pseuds/IAmANonnieMouse
Summary: Eames' Twitter is where it's at.





	Twitteritis

**Author's Note:**

> Taking a slight detour in my fic-writing catch-up binge to revisit this 'verse because I've been getting kudos and comments on it lately that reminded me how _fun_ this was to write! And I did promise you all that I would revisit this 'verse, did I not?
> 
> Silly little fluff-let to make up for the drama and angst I plan on posting in the coming weeks (and probably months since we all know what my updating habits are like...) *beams innocently*
> 
> (shamelessly stole title inspiration from a line in EGT's NBT.)

Arthur has a (frankly adorable) habit of running his pencil along the side of his face when he’s composing a new song. It leaves little graphite lines on his skin, cutting across his cheeks in dramatic, haphazard streaks.

Eames walks by Arthur, bent over his piano, and trails a light hand over his shoulders. Arthur smiles vaguely but otherwise ignores him.

Perfect.

Eames snaps a discreet photo from across the room, zoomed in on the pencil marks.

_Shhh,_ his tweet reads. _The maestro is at work._

He gets so many notifications he has to go into his Twitter settings and turn them off.

~+~+~

Lazy Sunday means, for them, hours of Arthur “tinkering” on his piano. Eames sprawls on the ground under the belly of the grand piano, letting the music wash over him. Some classical, some jazz, a stray Christmas song or two. Hannon exercises, movie scores, old classics.

He snatches up his phone and snaps an upside-down photo of Arthur’s bare foot, toes curled ever-so-slightly around the pedal.

_Lazy Sundays are wonderful,_ he tweets. _I am so very spoiled._

~+~+~

“I think you should move the bridge,” Eames says.

“No,” Arthur says.

They’ve been discussing it for ages now. “Darling, it’s supposed to be a remix.”

“Yeah, to accommodate voice, not to rewrite the whole thing!”

“Darling.” Eames slides the sheet music across the table. “Just there. Measures 61 to 69. If we shift them to the pickups to 33 then segue right into the chorus, it would sound magical.”

Arthur frowns. He sighs loudly. He fiddles with the paper. “Why are you always right?” he whines, and makes the change.

Eames takes a photo as his pencil is pressed to the page.

_Remixes, edits, and change, oh my!_ he tweets.

Arthur is smirking at him when he looks up from his phone. “I’m onto you,” Arthur says.

“Onto what, darling?” Eames asks, eyes wide.

~+~+~

Mal brings an artist by one afternoon to discuss the art for the album cover.

Arthur looks sufficiently overwhelmed.

“We can’t just reuse the old album cover?” he asks again.

“No,” Mal says, “because then your adoring public will think it’s your old album.”

Arthur sighs. “I don’t really care what it looks like, you know that.”

Mal turns to Eames. “Any requests from you, then?”

Eames hesitates. “Can it have a train?” he blurts.

Arthur looks up. “A train?”

“You’ve got a song about a train in here,” Eames says.

“Yeah,” Arthur says. “One song.”

“I like trains,” Eames says.

“Me too!” Mal exclaims. “It shall have a train.”

“Oh, come on,” Arthur moans, rubbing his head.

Eames zooms in on his long fingers pushing back his bangs. 

_Finalizing details of the remix album. Producing music isn’t all fun and games…_

~+~+~

They finish reworking all of the songs and head straight to the studio to record them. There’s something about singing for the album that’s different than every other time they’ve performed these songs. Eames catches Arthur’s eye and grins, jubilant.

They’re making an album.

Eames takes a quick shot of the sound board as Arthur’s playing the piano, the gorgeous arpeggios smoothly gliding through the room.

_Recording the last few songs!!!!!! It’s almost here!!!!!!_

~+~+~

Mal blows into town again, with a flurry of paperwork and new contracts and signing calendars and a tour schedule, good _God,_ and by the time she leaves, Eames has a nasty headache forming in his temple.

“Go lie down,” Arthur says, collecting all of the papers. “Take a break, you’ve earned it.”

Eames flops onto their bed and manages to fall asleep despite his headache. He wakes up four hours later to a freshly cooked dinner, and a Twitter notification.

_@eamessings is taking a break from the new album,_ Arthur’s tweet reads. _Even though it feels like I did all the work…_

The corresponding photo of him drooling onto the pillow should not make Eames grin like a madman.

“I’ve made a monster out of you,” Eames tells him, laughing.

Arthur grins. “Twitter disagrees.”

**Author's Note:**

> I am on [Tumblr!](http://iamanonniemouse.tumblr.com/) Come say hi!


End file.
